


his loyal guardian

by whisperedkisses



Series: interplanetary negotiations [1]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Noble-Vassal Relationship, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedkisses/pseuds/whisperedkisses
Summary: as the night draws to a close, count cruhteo asks for your company in his chambers.
Relationships: Count Cruhteo/Reader
Series: interplanetary negotiations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924981
Kudos: 6





	his loyal guardian

“Lance Corporal.” The quiet of night that hung in the air of the study was interrupted by Count Cruhteo’s smooth, deep voice. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“You needn’t remain here all night while I work,” He set his pen down and leaned back in the chair, clasping his fingers together over his abdomen, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. You dared not look for more than a half-second at the smooth skin of his chest. “I won’t be returning to my quarters before dawn. You may dismiss yourself if you wish.” You shake your head. 

“My mission is to guard you with my life, sir,” Your grip on the scabbard at your waist tightened. “And with respect, milord, I would rather be tired in your company than rested without.” 

He smiled softly, cat-like eyes half-lidded. “We  are living in quite dangerous times,” He mused. The deepness of his voice could have put you to sleep this late at night. “If only I could have such a stalwart attendant as you with me within the Tharsis.” 

“If you wish it, milord, I could ask for a transfer—“ He laughed, deeply and handsomely, the kind of sound you loved but so rarely heard from your perilously serious Knight Commander. So many days and nights of guarding Count Cruhteo gave you more of a chance than most ever got to see him in times of vulnerability and mirth, and though the work could be gruelling, the satisfaction of being able to see him smile for you only was a reward in itself. 

“I meant it only in jest, [L/N],” His voice, though distinguished and noble, sounded tired. You wished you had the power to force him to get some more rest. “I don’t know what I would do without your guidance as my vassal.” 

A soft blush adorned your cheeks. The room was dark enough that you hoped he wouldn’t notice, but Cruhteo was an observant man, even distracted as he often was. You looked down to hide your face. “You flatter me, sir.” 

“Hardly.” He fell silent, then, turned back to his work, and you knew he was done speaking for the time being. The ice in his scotch glass clinked and echoed when he occasionally lifted the drink to his lips. An hour, then two, then more passed in the quiet of the study. You tried your utmost not to notice the way he occasionally glanced up at you, gaze gentle and searching. 

The time had stretched into the earliest hours of morning by the time Cruhteo penned his last document. You straightened your posture as he stood from the chaise, running a hand through his flaxen hair. His voice was heavy with fatigue when he spoke to you. “[L/N], would you accompany me to my quarters? I do believe I am finished here.” 

“Of course, milord.” Your heels tapped together in salute before you opened the door for him, bowing your head as he walked past. 

“There is no one around to see us at this hour, [F/N],” He looked back at you and caught your eye. “You may dispense with the formalities.” 

“As you wish.” You placed a gloved hand over your heart. He smiled. 

The bay-door leading to Cruhteo’s quarters slid open like a camera shutter as the two of you walked through. The only souls wandering the halls of the landing castle at this hour were the security staff; fellow guardians and vassals who forewent sleep to protect those working within. You followed Cruhteo inside but stopped short at the entrance to his bedchamber. 

“Is something the matter?” 

“I imagined you might be retiring to bed, sir.” 

“Indeed I am,” A smirk curled at his lips. “But I would ask you to come with me for just a moment.” You nodded and walked in after the count, who watched you move like a predator watching its prey. 

You stopped by the door and took a moment to loosen your tie the slightest bit, letting your throat feel fresh air for the first time in hours. Cruhteo sat on the edge of his grand bed and cocked an eyebrow at you, as though he were expecting you to follow. 

“Sir. . .?” 

“Come here, [F/N].” He hadn’t used your first name this much in a long time. The sound of it coming from him now felt rather. . .sensual. You hesitated for a moment. He crooked a finger at you, speaking in a much darker tone. “Come here.” 

“Er, yes, sir.” You stumbled over the words as they left your mouth, your body feeling altogether too hot and too cold at the same time. You arrived in front of him and he held out his hands, beckoning you to give him your own. His fingers felt warm even through the fabric, gently pulling off your white gloves and setting them beside him on the bed. You nearly yelped when his arms encircled your waist, unbuckling the belt that held your scabbard and placing the forgotten weapon to the side as well. “Milord?” 

He said nothing, instead pulling you closer by the lapels of your overcoat and undoing the buttons one by one. Your face had to be completely darkened with a blush by now, you thought, and even though the anxious anticipation of being so close to Cruhteo was taking hold of you there was a wonderful sensation of heat blooming beneath your skin. 

He finished undoing your overcoat and did the same with your vest, removing both and setting them aside. You were left in your tight-fitting uniform pants and an airy blouse made to match the regal garb of the Orbital Knights. He reached behind your head and pulled out the tie keeping your low bun in place, [texture] hair spilling out over your shoulders. 

“You know, [F/N], I often find myself quite distracted when you are around,” He murmured, and he was so close to you now that you could almost feel the rumble of his broad chest when he spoke. You were practically pulled into his lap at this point, and a sturdy arm around your waist anchored you to his body. Your knees rested lightly on either side of his thighs; ready to take flight if he decided suddenly that he wanted nothing to do with you being so close to him. 

“I— I distract you, milord?” You had to crane your neck to look up at him. Even resting in his lap, he was still half a head taller than you. His blonde hair, tousled by his own hands, looked soft in the dim light of his bedchamber; the curve of his strong nose and feline eyes so beautiful and yet so masculine that you nearly swooned. 

“Indeed,” Cruhteo’s full lips looked so absolutely enticing when he spoke that you found it hard to tear your eyes away. “And I must admit that it can be rather. . . _challenging_ to prosecute my duties when my guardian looks so tempting.” He tipped your head up with a finger under your chin, grasping it between his thumb and forefinger so you couldn’t turn away.  Not that you would want to . 

“Tempting?” Your voice was quiet, caught under the intoxicating influence of Cruhteo’s actions, and he gave you a smirk that made your knees weak. A mixture of confusion and arousal roiled inside you. 

“That’s right. Why, [Y/N],” His face was leaning closer and closer to yours, warm breaths fanning over your lips and stomach clenching from the proximity. “There are times when I think you look good enough to  _eat_. ” 

His lips fit so nicely over yours that you could have sworn they were made just for you to touch. A sigh escaped you when his teeth scraped against your bottom lip. The paralysis of his kiss was so great that you hardly noticed him begin to remove your tie, slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse and attaching his lips to your exposed neck. You subconsciously gripped his upper arms as he fell onto his back, pulling you with him to sink into the plush covers. It took several moments for your brain to catch up with what was happening, and you had to pin the Count’s wrists to the bed to get even a second’s relief from all that was transpiring between the two of you. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Is something the matter, [F/N]?” 

“No. Well, yes— yes, there is,” You panted, trying to calm your excited breaths. Cruhteo made no move to try and release himself from your grasp, instead studying you with a heat to his gaze that made your heart race. “If I may be so bold, sir, I don’t quite understand what’s come over you.” 

“What is there to understand?” He leaned up against you to suck a bruise onto your throat. It was becoming harder and harder for you to resist the man’s actions. “Is it so wrong to want to indulge myself from time to time?” 

“Of course not, milord,” You said, struggling to keep your voice steady. A shiver rocked you when you felt his teeth against your skin. “But surely there are concubines—“ 

“What I want is not a  _concubine_ ,” He hissed, his words taking on a much sharper tone that you weren’t used to. You rarely ever stoked his ire, and yet the compromising situation you were in didn’t quite allow for you to feel frightened by it. “What I  _want_ is to finally claim the object of my waking desires.” 

“De— desires?” Cruhteo finally freed his wrists of your hands and captured yours, forcing you onto your back beneath him. His strength was. . .alarming. And so  _terribly_ arousing. 

“You stand by that damned door, day and night,  _taunting_ me,” He growled, grip tightening. “And you devote yourself to me so loyally— am I not supposed to want to  _devour_ you?” He crushed your mouth beneath his own in a bruising kiss that made your very core throb with want, all too aware of his lower half pressed against you like a reminder of your own sinful needs. You mustered an ounce of courage and pulled away  ~~though you truthfully never wanted to be apart from his lips again~~.

“Then— then I have something to ask of you.” His chest heaved. You could feel it rise and fall with every breath. 

“Yes?” 

“Keep me,” You forced yourself to look him in the eye. “Keep me as your most loyal vassal. Make me your one and only guardian, and I will serve you until the day I die,” Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you kept going. “Milord, I— I want to be by your side until the very death of the stars, if you will allow me to be.” 

A rather shocked expression crossed Cruhteo’s face at your declaration, and you decided to take the matter into your own hands, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips to yours. Your eyes scrunched closed. Years of longing feelings poured into your kiss that you couldn’t express with mere words. Something as primitive as language couldn’t possibly describe the magnitude of your devotion to him that went far beyond the physical. You wanted to bare your very soul to Cruhteo, and he seemed to want to let you. 

His lips parted against yours and you felt his fingers dig into your waist, threatening to shred the fabric of the blouse loosely clinging to your body. He quickly undid the rest of the buttons and pushed it off your shoulders, and a groan fell from his lips as his tongue met yours. Cruhteo was a much more carnal lover than you had anticipated, though there would be no complaints from you — the sensations of his hands on your body were too euphoric to warrant protest. 

You set to work on his own shirt as calmly as possible, trying to show more restraint than you thought yourself capable of. The man who occupied your every thought, your every waking moment was pressing himself against you with abandon — it was a struggle not to let scores of wanton moans fall from your lips at even his slightest touch. He sat back on his knees and tore the garment open before crawling back over you, drinking in the sight of your flushed and writhing body beneath him. Your hands instinctively braced against his chest as he began attacking your throat once more. You hardly noticed when he reached behind you to remove your brassière, too focused on the feeling of his broad chest beneath your trembling fingers; the press of his hips against yours drawing breathless moans from your mouth. He leaned back on his knees, still towering over you as he drank in the sight of your body. 

“Beautiful,” He murmured, a large hand passing down from your throat to the valley between your breasts to your abdomen, just above the seam of your pants. The look in Cruhteo’s eyes was so tender, so adoring, so — so absolutely  _craving_ that a shiver wracked your spine, thighs clenching as he hitched your legs up over his hips. “How beautiful you look beneath me. . .” 

Pupils blown wide in cerulean eyes, a whimper of ‘please’ earned you another rough kiss, Cruhteo’s fingers moving downward to tear at the clasp of your pants. Unceremoniously, he yanked them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but a sheer pair of black panties. He moved back over you and pressed his lips to your neck, sucking at the bruised and feverish skin as he cupped your sex over the thin fabric separating you. Even with a barrier between your wetness and his hand, the sensation of being touched like that by someone like him. . . 

“S-sir,” Your grip on his chest tightened. His tongue laved over a bruise forming on your clavicle, and you felt him smirk against you before biting down on the tender skin, making you cry out into the humid air. 

“Hm?” He pulled away from your neck and you  _whined_ ,  pressing your hips up against his hand for any sort of relief from the teasing circles he was drawing over your clit through the fabric. “What is it you want?” 

“Please touch me," You whispered, breathlessly keening into his hand. His lips crashed back to yours in a heated embrace as he pushed the lace to the side. Thick fingers plunged into your waiting heat, his other hand spreading your thighs wider as he kissed his way down your body, your hips trembling in anticipation of what he might do next. 

When he was level with your sex, he stopped, letting out a low hum of appreciation before curling his fingers and attaching his mouth to your throbbing clit. You bucked into him with a whimper but he held fast to you, arm coming under your thigh and placing a hand on your lower abdomen to still your movements. He gave a harsh suck to your clit before pulling away with a wet  pop , his lips curling into a feline smirk that sent even more waves of heat to lap at your core. “Your taste is every bit as good as I imagined,” He crooned, crooking his fingers inside you, and with another lap at your clit you were  gone,  tumbling over the edge of pleasure so quickly you thought you might weep. 

“F-fuck,” You whispered, shutting your eyes and turning your head to the side in an attempt to catch your breath. Cruhteo simpered, leaving one last kiss on the inside of your thigh and pulling back. You heard the telltale sound of a zipper being undone and opened your eyes to see him leaning above you. 

Hair mussed and nothing but a shirt hanging from his shoulders, thick cock upright against his abdomen; Cruhteo looked to be the image of pure lust, and when you felt his member press against your inner thigh the only thought you could muster was that you  _needed him inside you_.  Without a word he didn’t hesitate to oblige, lining himself up with your slick entrance and kissing you firmly as he pressed inside you. Instinctively your hands came back to his torso, roaming his broad, sturdy chest as he sheathed himself to the hilt in your sex. 

“ _Ahn_. . . m-more, please,” You beg, breathlessly pushing yourself against him like a needy little thing, and he smiles against the crook of your neck as he bites into the tender flesh. A sharp thrust of his hips had moans wracking your body. 

“ _Divine_ ,”  He murmurs, tone reverent and tender, before kissing you again with a groan against your lips. You feel so small compared to him; so tight compared to the thickness, the length of his member, and it’s hard to tell in this most intimate of moments exactly where your body ends and Cruhteo’s begins. 

His thrusts are slow and deep, focused on pleasure and not speed. His lips hardly separate from yours even for breath as he kisses you languidly, the feeling of his tongue like a hot brand against yours. The look in Cruhteo’s eyes is so wanting that it’s almost startling, and you just know without him even saying it that he’s as deep in the throes of euphoria as you are. 

He hitches your legs up over his hips and somehow moves deeper within you. His forehead presses against your own as your breaths mingle in the humid, musky air. Your lips brush but he doesn’t fully kiss you, and you know that all his attentions must be focused on the feeling of his length inside you, on the way your thighs quiver with each thrust, each press of his lips a mark of devotion to you and you only. 

A low, breathy moan flits past your ear and his fingers dig roughly into your hips. “Forgive me,” He murmurs, pressing a long kiss to your bruised lips. You can’t stop to wonder why he’s offering an apology, because not a moment later he’s coming inside you, thrusts stuttering and without rhythm, and suddenly you’re filled with the warmth of his release. A noise that’s not quite a growl is buried in the crook of your neck. 

You’re not sure how much time passes as you bask in the warm afterglow. You’re halfway asleep, you realize, when the weight of his body lifts, a caress of the side of your face giving way to a soft expression on his. “Milord. . .” 

“Please, [F/N], you may call me simply Cruhteo when we’re alone like this,” He gives you a wan smile as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “I’m afraid that in the moment I was quite overcome with indulgence, but if— if you’ll allow me,” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’d like to honour your request.” 

“Hm?” You’re drowsy with exhaustion, and Cruhteo can’t find it in him to be irked by it, because you look so beautiful in the aftermath of his touches. 

“I would like to make you my sole vassal, [Y/N].” Your eyes widen. 

“Are— you’re quite serious?” 

“I am.” 

You surge forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and crush your mouth against his in an elated kiss, and for the second time that night he finds himself shocked by your boldness. He smiles against your mouth at the feeling before pulling back and delighting in the way your smile mirrors his. 

“Might you like to retire to bed with me, [Y/N]?” 

You cup his face in your hands for another soft, lasting kiss. “As you wish,  _Cruhteo_.” 


End file.
